


Maybe We Should Have Had Dinner First

by dedougal



Series: Army Training [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Military, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-12
Updated: 2012-10-12
Packaged: 2017-11-16 04:34:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/535555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dedougal/pseuds/dedougal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jackson has to serve his punishment too, with Corporal Mahealani. He's looking forward to it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe We Should Have Had Dinner First

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Cotton Candy prompt Meal. For my darling shiny_luv who is sweetness and light and enjoys gorgeous boys so fully :D

Danny watches Whittemore – Jackson – march towards him and mentally shakes his head. Bad enough that Hale had pulled rank to basically flirt with Stilinksi for whatever duration he desired. Hale was not subtle. Danny reckoned he probably wasn’t either.

Whittemore was Cadet-Captain and that meant he spent a lot of time with Danny, going over schedules and bunk assignments and hearing complaints. Watching the training harden the already male-model gorgeous boy into something tougher and stronger made Danny regret Finstock’s decision to select Jackson. Because watching him roll a pen around his perfect mouth while contemplating paperwork make Danny’s life hell in the best kind of way. It was like the guy had an oral fixation – pens, fingers, apples, anything to draw attention to his pouting lips. Hell, Stilinski’s case of permanent open mouth had nothing on Whittemore.

“Potato-prep, Whittemore. Peel ‘em until you can’t feel your fingers.” Danny took the excuse to place his hand low on Jackson’s back, just above his waistband and shove him – gently – in the direction of the kitchen. The catering detail had prepped the vegetables for mess before they’d headed off on exercises but a few more potatoes never hurt. It felt more useful than the push ups Stilinski was doing. Danny had no patience for standing out in the heat, not today. Watching Whittemore sweat during PT, hearing his low groans, imagining what they’d sound like in the context of his bunk, was torture at the best of times.

Whittemore didn’t complain and Danny followed him through to the cool kitchen. He laid the file he’d been carrying on one of the pristine steel countertops and watched Whittemore lay out his tools. In silence. Awkward silence.

“What happened?” Danny tapped the pen on the file. This wasn’t like Jackson at all.

“Nothing, Corporal. It was a misunderstanding.” Jackson grabbed his first potato and started peeling, efficiently and with a minimum of fuss.

Danny couldn’t let it alone. “I thought McCall was at fault.”

“It was a misunderstanding.” The words – the excuse – was growled out on the very edge of acceptable. “Corporal.”

Danny let it go, carrying on with his requisition and trying not to stare at Jackson’s ass in his fatigues, at the way his t-shirt was a little too small now, with all the muscle he’d put on, shoulders straining. His hips were still narrow and Danny tried to work out if his hands would span the small of Jackson’s back, fingers splayed wide as Danny held him face down over one of the counters. Danny dropped his eyes back to his paperwork, unseeing, and he shifted under the counter to hide his stiffening cock.

It was silent in the camp. Hale and he had been left behind to deal with this pair while the rest of the company headed off into the woods. Danny hadn’t questioned Captain Hale but he wondered if Derek’s uncle had something else in mind. He heard the crunch of footsteps from outside – one steady and the other stuttering – but didn’t move to investigate. Jackson had stopped peeling, laid his hand flat on the table and was breathing heavily.

“The fights been coming for some time. McCall and I – we’re too different.” Jackson looked round and Danny enjoyed being the focus of his attention. Whittemore wouldn’t know – couldn’t know what Danny was thinking as he slowly drew his tongue over his lips. “Can I grab some water, Corporal?”

Danny nodded as Jackson strode to the fridge and pulled out some water. His eyes slid sideways to watch Jackson’s throat swallow. As if he’d planned it, Jackson let the bottle slip from his mouth and pour down the front of his fitted shirt, making it cling, tantalising. Jackson muttered something under his breath as he pulled the t-shirt up and off, leaving his chest bare except for his dog tags, balling it up to mop at the dampness on his chest. Danny spun around on his stool to look at him, half sceptically and half in sheer teasing enjoyment.

As if Danny’s movement had been some kind of signal, Jackson pushed at the waistband of his pants chasing the moisture with a single minded purpose Danny appreciated. Then Jackson flung the t-shirt to the tiles and met Danny’s gaze. He deliberately, slowly, ran the pad of his thumb across his bottom lip, pulling it down. That was a move that Danny was familiar with. He spread his thighs and was pleasantly surprised when Jackson came to stand between them.

Danny reached up and tangled his fist in Jackson’s dog tags, reeling him in, mouth parted and ready. Jackson came easily enough, fitting his mouth against Danny’s and allowing Danny to use his free hand to finally touch that naked, smooth skin. Jackson’s mouth was cool and clean after the water, his tongue a shock as it dipped into Danny’s mouth.

Jackson pulled back before Danny was ready and Danny tightened his fist around Jackson’s dog tags, pulling them tight. A visible shiver ran through Jackson’s body and Danny couldn’t help but lean in to bite another kiss against his lips. “What do you want, Jackson?” He kept his voice low, wanting.

“I want to suck your cock, Corporal.” There was none of the polite respect in Jackson’s voice. Instead it was dirty, wicked and needy. “I want to get down on my knees and let you fuck my face.”

Danny’s cock jumped in the constraints of his pants. He eased back, planting his elbow on the counter behind him. “Get to it, then.”

Jackson was all elegant grace as he dropped to his knees, undulating, keeping his eyes on Danny’s face. He didn’t even look away as he brushed his hand over the sizeable bulge distorting the front of Danny’s fatigues. He was as efficient as ever as he unbuckled Danny’s belt, opening his fly and wrapped his clever fingers in the waistband of Danny’s underwear, asking permission. Danny lifted his hips to give Jackson room to tug them down, obscurely pleased that Jackson didn’t pull his pants all the way to his boots. It felt deliciously wrong like this, nearly fully clothed, as Jackson wrapped his hand around Danny’s cock and finally dropped his eyes to look at what he was about to feel at the back of his throat. 

It was flattering that Jackson let out a low moan as he lowered himself onto Danny’s cock like he’d been hungry for it. But it was the sensation of those quivering lips, the hot wet suck that made Danny punch his hips up again. Jackson just took it, opening his throat like he’d poured the water down it earlier. Danny pulled back, not wanting to hurt Jackson. He heard the soft jingle as Jackson unbuckled his own pants, drew out his own cock and started to stroke it, a wet and filthy sound counterpointing the noise of Jackson’s mouth on Danny. Jackson was getting off on this. 

Danny pulled the dog tags tight again, forcing Jackson down on his cock. He was a little rougher than he normally was, but Jackson went with it, his shoulder moving faster as he jerked his own cock, taking Danny almost down to where his other hand was still holding Danny’s cock steady. He looked like porn, mouth eagerly swallowing, eyes closed in pleasure. Perfect cheekbones made even sharper by the hollowing of his cheeks. Even if this never happened again, Danny would never forget this. 

His free hand found its way onto Jackson’s head, the buzz of his hair soft against Danny’s callused palms. Jackson let out another groan around Danny’s cock as Danny held him firm and started to roll his hips, holding his cock in deep for slightly too long. Jackson dropped his free hand, stroking across Danny’s balls, doing nothing to stop Danny from forcing his entire cock into Jackson’s willing mouth. Then Jackson’s eyes flicked open, looking straight up, giving permission for Danny to do anything he wanted. Danny came, hard and unstoppable as a freight train. Jackson swallowed what he could and Danny hauled him to his feet using the dog tags to kiss the mess from his face. It seemed to be that which prompted Jackson’s orgasm, hot come spilling across Danny’s stomach where his shirt had ridden up.

They stayed close and tangled in each other while their heartbeats returned to normal, kissing lazily. Jackson pulled back first. “I’ve got to get cleaned up before the others return. If I go now-“ Jackson’s voice held a rough edge, his throat obviously recovering from Danny’s pounding.

Danny kissed him one more time. “I think you served your time.”

“And come isn’t really enough of a dinner…” Jackson pulled away, firmly this time, grabbing his t-shirt from near the humming refrigerator. “Although we could test that theory later.”

“Paperwork? After mess. And class.” Danny felt justified in drawing a hand across the come Jackson had left on his belly. Jackson swallowed, hard. 

“Yeah. Later. Not…now.” He flashed a grin at Danny, wicked, open and promising more. Much more.


End file.
